


Oh, What a Circus

by griffle



Series: Batman: The Drunk and the Done [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce is Drunk and Done, Bruce tries and fails at parenting, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mentions of marriage, Other, Some Out of Character, Tim is done, Translation Available, mentions of drawn porn, mentions of magic, mentions of sexy toys, older!Damian, ooc due to alcohol, there's a lot going on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffle/pseuds/griffle
Summary: "What if...I marry Tim?" Bruce stared at him, eyes dead."Bruce," Clark said, oh so calm. He was Lake Placid. He was calm. He was zen. A zen lake. "Are you high? Are you literally high? Were there drugs in that drink? Are you being mind controlled?"---------The Finale. Everything comes together, like a glorious, beautifultrainwreck.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Cassie Sandsmark, Damian Wayne/Tim Drake (mentioned), Diana (Wonder Woman) & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Ra's al Ghul (mentioned)
Series: Batman: The Drunk and the Done [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761643
Comments: 12
Kudos: 409
Collections: Tim Drake





	Oh, What a Circus

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [好一出盛况](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554521) by [hopeineverforget](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeineverforget/pseuds/hopeineverforget)



> I have a new addiction to the Trademark sign and italics and I have no shame. 
> 
> This is crack, please tread carefully. This really kind of got off the rails. 
> 
> Also: Surprise! I was kidding- *this* is the actual finale of "Batman: The Drunk and the Done." I put it as complete mostly because I wasn't sure if I was going to actually complete this monstrosity and well. You didn't need to be waiting for a finale to never appear.

“Thank you all for appearing,” Oracle smiled at the group. “I’m sure we all know-”

“Have you talked to Batman yet? And tell him to get off his ass?”

“Where the fuck is he?” 

“Don’t you have a tracker on him?”

“I lost my favorite boots.”

“You think I’m wasting trackers on Batman? Fuck that noise.”

“Has anyone seen Tim? Like, he isn’t kidnapped again, is he?”

“Oh geez, I hope it’s isn’t anything magical. Last time Bruce said he was “done” with magic, and he said it in his “Done Batman” voice.”

“What the hell are you talking about Duke? Batman always uses that voice.”

“It was different. Trust me.”

“And quit worrying about the damn boy, Blondie-It’s the Replacement. He’s fine.”

“Say that to my face. Or to my bruises. Fuck, my _bruises_ have bruises.”

“Babs, I am so done, _please_ tell me you fixed this.”

“I had to take care of Killer Croc. I lost my favorite boots.”

“Why does Killer Croc like the sewer so much?” That was Duke, leaning against Bab’s countertop as he ate a cucumber. Cass gave him a flat look. “I don’t care. I lost my favorite boots because of him.”

“Also, what the _fuck_ are you eating?” Jason glared at the cucumber in Duke’s hand, peeled, and otherwise left fully whole. Duke frowned. “What?” he asked, as he raised the cucumber to his mouth and took a bite. Babs sighed as everyone shouted in horror. This was her fault. This was her fault because she knew better. She knew all of these idiots- yes, Cass and Steph counted at the moment, because while they didn’t usually act like idiots, once you got them together with Dick and Todd, all of their brains flew out the window. Because _idiots._

Or maybe it was just Todd. He had that way of bringing everyone to his level. 

“You’re in timeout!” Jason shouted above the clamor. “Get on the damn fridge!”

Duke sputtered. “You’re seriously not doing that dumb-” 

"What did I say? You are in timeout!" Jason says, pointing to the fridge. "Get on the fridge. Get on up there!

"This is a stupid and outdated vine reference," Duke snarked as he started to crawl up ontop of said fridge. 

"Wrong answer. The line is: this family is a fucking nightmare," Jason said, crossing his arms. Barbara rolled her eyes. “If we can get back to the matter on hand,” she glared at Jason. 

“As you’re all aware: Bruce has apparently decided to hang up his cowl, temporarily.”

“While leaving us to pick up the slack,” snapped Jason. “Seriously, I’m not wasting a tracker just to locate the ass.”

“He’s at the manor,” Steph huffed. “But does anyone know where the fuck Tim went? He’s not returning my calls.”

“And he owes me boots.” 

Steph nodded. “He owes Cass and I boots. I have one bruise that has layers. _Layers._ ”

“...I know you all are tired, and wondering why Bruce has been out-”

“-I’m _so_ tired,” moaned Dick. “I literally spent my paychecks in just gas between here and Bluhaven.” Babs bit the inside of her cheek, letting the copper taste of blood fill her mouth. She was the Oracle. She was _Barbara Gordon_ , and if she could handle her father _and_ Batman, she could resist duct-taping _all of their mouths together and letting her finish a damn_ **_sentence._ **

“Bruce has been out. We’ve been all picking up the slack. And it’s probably has to do with the fact that Damian has decided to court Tim-"

"Which is wrong!" Dick interjected. Focus, Barbara. Hit the First Idiot Wonder later. 

"-which may be in his right, and this is the straw that broke Batman’s back." Inwardly, she preened when all of them winced at her choice of words. Good. Let them _squirm._

"What?" Dick was gaping, as was his right as the resident Dramatic Bird-Queen™. 

Oracle sighed, tapping on a keyboard, and a page appearing on the screen. 

"Wait, you made a PowerPoint?" Jason was mildly surprised about the courtship, but- Damian _was_ acting more creepy to Tim. And he _was_ the son of Emotionally Constipated Man the First. 

"Focus, Jason. If you look at the screen, you notice several emails back and forth between Bruce's lawyer and Bruce about Tim's adoption papers. Several emails about reminding Bruce to send in the papers and set up various court dates and the like." She clicked to the next screen. "Checking court records, they never appear- and it looks like-"

"-Bruce forgot to send in the adoption papers," Steph finished, her mouth in a grim line. "And once again, Bruce forgets to do something for the sake of "The Mission."

"Which is causing more problems than he realizes. Not only is Tim's status at Wayne Enterprises is at stake-" Babs let the sentence hang, letting the idea of Tim no longer working at Wayne Enterprises, that Brucie Wayne, bane of the Bats and Birds, would have free reign, settle into their collective minds. All of them twitched with horror. "-it means that Ra's al Ghul is... _escalating._ His..interest in Tim. Tim is currently on a mandated “sabbatical” by Lucius Fox and when asked, all he mentioned was Ra’s al Ghul’s... _gifts."_ Babs makes a face. It is a terrible face. It is a face that her father makes when "Batman" and "Necessity" are in the same sentence, and there's no "not" in between the two words. 

"...Gross. All in favor of letting that idea move right the fuck by us?" Jason nodded at the show of hands. "I don't think we need the details, Babs." 

"Good, because I want to forget as much as Tim probably does," Babs said, moving onto the next slide. "Looking into social media, Tim hadn’t mentioned any plans of leaving the country or even Gotham, or in any emails, texting, or messaging apps, but it came across my notice that apparently Tim isn't as straight as we thought- and somehow missed. Or Damian, but that's somewhat of a moot point." They nodded their heads; they still remembered the last family event, and the way Damian kept shoving himself into Tim’s personal space, and just glaring, annoying and confusing the older man. Or, the fact that Damian literally _demanded_ to marry Tim in front of Bruce, his Father, and Bruce reacting exactly as expected: Not Well. 

Several pictures filled the screen, displaying Tim at various places- at the beach, what looked to be the Kent's living room, some clubs- covered in glitter, or wearing sassy shirts that proudly declared him to be Pansexual. Superboy, Wonder Girl, and even Kid Flash/Impulse/Etc were all wearing various Pansexual pride shirts as well. There was even a picture that had a banner proudly declaring "Out of the Pantry" and confetti raining down in a still shot. 

_"Huh,"_ went half of the people in the room.

"Wait, you didn't know about this?" Stephanie asked. Cass raised her hand. "I mean, yeah Cass, it was a given with you- but the rest of you, you didn't know? _How?_ "

Babs shrugged. “When it comes to sexuality, I try to be respectful. I’m not Bruce.”

"I've literally only seen Tim date women," Dick said. "Since when is he into guys?"

Steph blinked. "Since forever? He's not bi, he's pan, but he rants about sexuality and gatekeeping like, all the time, on his blog."

"He has a _blog_?"

"Focus, but yes, Dick, he has a blog- most of us do."

_"What."_

"I have a question." Eyes looked to Duke. "Just wondering, I know that Damian is pretty much trying to get a ring on Tim's finger but, isn't this kind of their own business?"

"It would," a video popped out. "Except apparently this is the straw that finally breaks the Batman's back." And- _yikes._

"Oh, that's a lot of alcohol," Steph whispered, as they watched Clark, Diana, and Bruce get _horrifically_ plastered. 

"Oh, holy shit I forgot about this," Jason cackled, remembering "moo-moos." His grin lessened as he watched the normally well-kept man get more and more sloppy. And then Wonder Woman getting the same way. And then Clark. And then when Bruce started tearing up about how much he felt like a failure to his children, and the other two super heroes just held him as he cried. 

Another click and a video. "And there's this footage of-"

"Babs!" All react- wincing, hissing, glancing away, because seeing someone you consider a little brother _croon_ at a video of Justified Angry Tim™ while trying to adjust an erection isn't what you need to see. Stephanie actually cried out "my eyes!"

Barbara sighed. "It's pretty bad," she admitted. "And frankly...this is out of my expertise. So, a brainstorm session: does anyone have any ideas how to stop...well, this?"

"Do we?" All turn to look at Jason. "Look, Replacement and the Demon Brat were never really brotherly- hell, Replacement _and I_ are more brotherly than Damian and Tim. And there's basically nothing really stopping Damian from doing this bullshit because he's legal, they're not brothers, either law or blood, thank Bruce for that blunder, and Tim isn't hetreosexual. Don't give us that look, Dick." 

“I just can’t-” Several heads turn to glare at the man. "I knew Damian had a crush! Who do you think he goes to for advice?" Dick bit his lip. “I practically _raised_ him, so he kept asking me for advice, but I thought it was for, like, _Colin,_ or Superboy- he didn’t exactly give names.” 

"That...would make sense, though Superboy is a bit... _wholesome,_ for Damian," Babs squinted, brain obviously whirring as she stared at the eldest Boy Wonder. "Are you the reason I heard him humming along to 'Glory Bound' while pasting pictures of Tim in his stalker scrapbook?" Tim may of call _his_ scrapbooks "evidence that Batman is Bruce Wayne" but there was no way Damian could use the same excuse. For one, Damian's had more stickers. 

Stephanie groaned. "Thanks Dick, thanks for your terrible taste in music. You got Damian to start listening to your oldies rock. Because of love." 

"The Grass Roots are a _godsend_ and I refuse to have you besmirch my 70's Rock in this household!" 

"If he starts to mumble the words to 'Mr. Bojangles' I'm throwing a brick at you," Steph promised. "And I'll make sure to throw it hard." 

Babs cleared her throat. "The issue is that can we fix this? _Do_ we fix this? Should we just go the way of Bruce and have a drinking binge? Because I am concerned about the amount of alcohol the man is drinking- he nearly bought twenty five thousand dollars in alcohol, and seems dead set about going through it by himself."

"Twenty- Jesus Babs, lead with _that_ ," Dick yelped. "Why isn't he dead from the alcohol?" 

"Because of the Amazon's purple ray, Dick." Jason huffed at their surprised faces. "What? I _listen._ And I know Diana's allowed Bruce to use it in the past. It wouldn't surprise me if that’s why Bruce is able to drink so damn much." 

"I just don't understand where it came from- the crush I mean. Bruce drinking was something coming, but Damian’s crush...it just seems so out of nowhere" Dick frowned at the screen. "I mean sure, they stopped trying to kill each other, but…" He kept shaking his head. 

"I mean, it makes sense," Duke said. "Tim and Damian both have issues stemming from emotional neglect and emotional abuse that cause them to be emotionally distant as a way of maintaining control and self-preservation. Both of them are traditionally sarcastic, intelligent, and have a feral bloodlust that only an Assassin Head semi-Immortal would like, though Damian's is more of a stabbing kind and Tim's is more about explosions. I bet that's what made Damian intrigued in the first place. They also have the controlling/codependency trait that apparently almost all of us have due to our various traumas, and fear of therapy because we know so many super villains with doctorates." 

"...Jesus Duke, you don't pull any punches do you?" Jason finally said after the resulting silence , everyone's brains breaking at the man's words. Duke shrugged. "I'm still on the fridge man- also, can I get down? I'm getting a crick in my neck." 

"...In ten minutes. Because you made us look into our inner abysses and see that they were staring back." Duke just groaned, but still stayed on the fridge- he may have been a Bat, but he didn’t have a death wish.

"I'm surprised no one has mentioned Ra's al Ghul," Cass mentioned, idly picking at her nails. 

“I figured Tim finally went to go and finish what he should have done years ago,” Steph commented. “I am worried about that,” Babs admitted. Dick nodded too. “I mean, sure, verbally assassinating people, that’s Tim’s go-to way- and Bruce is fine with that, but I don’t think he’ll be okay from Tim going from verbal assassination to _physical_ assassination,” Dick said.

Jason snorted, earning a look from Babs. "You wanna share?" she asked. 

"Only that the fact that you think Tim would stab a guy to death is pretty fucking stupid. He has a plan." 

"Oh?" Babs raised a brow. 

"Totally," Jason rolled his back, groaning as his spine popped. It felt good. "For one, Tim's method is either psychological or explosions- no real in between."

"I highly doubt that Jason…" Barbara started. Jason rolled his eyes. 

"Listen, I can guarantee that Tim is probably blowing up League Bases at this moment- it's like his favorite revenge, or hobby, plus, we saw that clip, and that was _definitely_ Tim in the middle of one of his patented explosions. I also know that he's not going to go out and stab a guy to death- at least, not in any way that will lead back to him. I _know_ these things. It's also how I know he's the one who made Luthor run away in fear and that's why the man's been missing for the past three months."

That was a fucking trip. One in the morning, going down to the BatCave after dragging his bleeding ass back to the Manor, and seeing a variety of disturbing pornographic images and erotic fiction of Superman (also some of Clark Kent, which, _what?_ ) just plastered on the large screen. A young man with a jar of peanut butter and grim determination as he photoshops the terrible, terrible, drawings of the funky alien dude to make them look better. Jason had stopped walking in, too stunned to remember the gash on his side. 

"Why." was all he could say. Tim leveled him with a look. A look that made his balls want to shrivel up into his body. It was not a good look. 

"Luthor knows what he did." The statement was calm, straightforward. Tim looked back at the screen. "You might want to remove any stock you have in LexCorp, for a while." 

Apparently the day after, LexCorp stock plummeted to record lows. And Luthor went on a holiday. And that's when Jason started being a bit more careful of his words around Tim. 

"Seriously, the man has stared into the abyss for too long," Jason said, shuddering. "He'll figure it out. Tim's gonna have a plan. Even if it's going to be a bad one."

* * *

“I don't have a plan. Not even a bad one."

Cassie patted his head as he sighed into the couch cushions. After Tim made his point (and Kon finally removed the costume), Kon had flown both of them to the Titans Tower, where a sympathetic Cassie and Bart had created a junk food feast and had a continuous stream of Wendy the Werewolf Killer going in the background. They all made the appropriate sympathetic noises and winces as he explained (bitched, his mind supplied, but the thought was swiftly shoved in a compartment to be forgotten), the whole debacle. From Lucius Fox finding one of the “presents” (and being understandably horrified) to the “mandated sabbatical” to Bruce subtly implying that it was _his fucking fault that Damian wanted to marry him,_ to him deciding that he needed a break and destroying bases while making Kon become a Murder-Bird sounded like a better way to unwind that anything else he could’ve done. Eventually, Kon was floating above the couch, with Bart eating cream cheese and crackers, while Cassie rubbed Tim’s back as he tried to suffocate himself into the cushions (no such luck.) Tim loved his friends. He just didn’t love this whole issue. 

“I wish I did, I wish I could just throw a grenade at it and just let it all disappear,” Tim whined into the couch cushions. 

"But do you?"

Tim looked at Bart. "Do I what?"

"I mean, yeah, Damian is a lot of things," Bart waved a hand around. "But, didn't you say you were glad that both of you were getting along better? Without the threat of death or some sort of traumatic experience?"

Tim bit his lip. It was true, he was appreciative of their friendly-if-still-distant-but-getting-better relationship. Damian was still an ass, but the mocking wasn't as vicious, if just more routine. They still fought, but more like squabbling, that ended in general banter and laughter, not the actual fights that ended when one of them tried to stab the other. Hell, they even worked with each other on projects, not just cases and patrol. Damian turned out to be a decent helper for when he worked on his cars. He actually liked helping out with feeding Damian's zoo. He went to Damian's recitals. Both of them got into that new television show together. And both of them bonded over working at Wayne Enterprises and bring some of the few competent people there along with dealing with _Brucie Wayne._

He liked that. He liked having Damian as an ally, maybe becoming a friend or even a partner of sorts. Just. Not that type of partner. Maybe? No. He didn't know. 

Shit. He's going to have to properly do this, not just throw Kon or a rigged explosive and be done with it. 

"I'm so screwed," he breathed. Cassie hummed, patting his shoulder some more. 

“Stiff upper lip, Tim,” she said. “At least it’s Damian and not a villain, or one of our mentors that wants to marry you.” All of them paused, going through their lists of various superheroes and villains, before simultaneously shuddering. 

“Dude, if there is a universe where Tim is being courted by Lex Luthor, make sure to put a big Kryptonite barrier around that universe,” Kon said flatly. 

“Or the Joker,” Bart added. “Or Thaddeus Thane or-”

“Stop,” Tim moaned. “I don’t need those awful images in my head at this moment.” 

“Hey, Rob, why _is_ the Demon Head gunning for you?” Eyes turned up to the floating boy. “I mean, you said you had some weird nemesis relationship before, but what changed?”

“Honestly, all I have is a theory, and probably not a good one,” Tim sighed. “My guess is that it has to do with one of Wayne Enterprises contacts- or well, an old Drake Industries contact. I’m really the only one who’s in regular contact, and he actually prefers to deal with me, since he’s an old friend of my parents.” He actually liked the dude, somewhat. He was older, and running his own multi-million company, but he still had an affable personality, and didn’t make Tim want to rip out his hair until he was bald as Luthor. For the most part, their meetings went very smoothly, with one or two small anecdotes about his parents. “He’s planning on retiring soon, and his heir has some innovative eco-friendly ideas that may work.”

“So?”

“He runs a large nuclear management corporation, currently,” Tim replied. 

Cassie facepalmed. “Ra's wants access to the corporation.”

“And surprisingly he hasn’t been able to hack into it, or buy it, or any other way.” And that- may have been on him. With a cyber security system built by Oracle herself, and _maybe_ one or two suggestions on ramping up their security system, the corporation was tighter than Fort Knox. Plus, the man was an odd duck in that he didn’t fall for Wayne’s charms or foundations; rather, he was interested in seeing young Timmy Drake grow in his parents old field. 

It was odd, having people that wanted to see him grow, people that were civilians, not vigilantes or superheroes. Odd, but nice. 

“So Ra’s doing his old weird attempt at corporate espionage? Cool,” Kon sighed. “I mean, at least it isn’t anything magical- but seriously, why did you get the villain with hundreds-year-old ninja organization at his fingertips?”

“Dude, I wish I knew,” groaned Tim, rolling to stare up at the ceiling. “I mean- he’s gone too far. The _gifts_ have gone too far.” All of them shuddered. “And I don’t think he’ll stop, unless I like, do something drastic.”

“Murder isn’t cool, Tim.”

“Not my point, Kon.” 

“What about just dumping him onto the Justice League’s Door and just say, “Take Care of this?”

“Or giving him to Gun Batman!”

“Ok, one: As much as I want to just pass him over to JLA, Cassie, he technically hasn’t done anything illegal, just sending me, a young, legal adult, weird creepy gifts. Unfortunately, he has the law on his side. And I don’t want to deal with Gun Batman, Bart- none of us want to deal with Gun Batman. Gun Batman is terrible and I hope he never comes true.” Tim sighed- he was sighing a lot, he knew, but _fuck_ , short of some sort of magical spell- Bruce’s rage against magic notwithstanding- that kept Ra’s out of his pants and life, he was shit out of luck. He knew Ra’s- he knew that Ra’s would honor some sort of marriage bond, maybe try and get him divorced, but he would at least _back the fuck off._

"Hey Kon?"

"Yeah Rob?” Kon floated over to where he was still lying next to Cassie. 

"On a scale of one to ten, how much are you willing to marry me so I don't have to choose between an old man who wants his grandson to call me grandma, or said grandson who wants his grandfather to call me son-in-law?" Conner laughed, floating above Tim. "Only if we can get Cassie and Bart involved in this marriage, because I'm not marrying you without extra protection."

"You do care," Tim smiled. "And of course- I would never not marry you without those two." Cassie and Bart made noises of agreement.

“Because you would drive each other insane?” Cassie grinned at Tim.

"After two months," Tim promised, yawning. 

"Wait, what if we do?"

They all looked at Bart.

"Go on," Tim said, sitting up. Because Bart usually came up with some schemes that would work. Utterly crazy and made Kon and Cassie terrified, but nothing worse than a Jason scheme. Or a Dick scheme. Bart's schemes were in the middle between one of his schemes and a Jason scheme. 

“It’s like you said before- the guy needs you, probably for something gross, but you’ve also said he has a code of honor, and he’s reliant on magic- cause isn’t that what the Lazarus Pits are kinda? And didn’t Cassie get that weird magic textbook from Wonder Woman?”

“I did,” Cassie said, face brightening. “And I definitely remember something about marriage bonds.” 

Bart nodded. “So what if we all got married to each other? Like, we all like each other, and there’s probably some sort of magical marriage thing that can deter the guy- also, if we got married, then we won’t have to deal with all of those alien marriage shenanigans like Nightwing or Green Lantern deal with. And- you guys are awesome. I wouldn’t mind being married to anyone in this group.”

“We _are_ in the twenty-first century,” Cassie started, pausing to look at Kon and Tim. “And it’s not like marriage has to mean some sort of _romantic_ love. A lot of people get married for tax purposes.”

“And we could _potentially_ get divorced or annulled or something if we decide to one day actually marry someone else- at least if we go the legal route,” Kon said. “But we probably should do at least one magical rite, to stop Ra’s al Ghul dumb...whatever he’s doing. Probably get Damian off your back.” He gave a side glance to Tim, who was just standing there, processing. There was a tinge of something that looked like hope on the man’s face. Cassie shuffled up next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, as Kon mirrored her action and Bart flitted to grin in front of Tim.

“What do you say, Boy Wonder?” Cassie asked, grinning. 

Tim grinned. He loved his Core Four. “I say, let’s get _matrimonial._ ” 

* * *

"I don't think that's a margarita anymore, Bruce," Diana said carefully, looking dubiously at the concoction in Bruce's arms. For one, it was in a bucket. And she had seen him pour a multitude of liquors that it was giving a strong smell of artificial sugar and antiseptic. It was also violently lavender, which made her think of Lex Luthor. Speaking of-

"Have you heard anything about Luthor recently?" She hadn't heard anything from either Clark or Lois, and the news had been absent of his smirking bald face. Last she'd heard, his corporation took a record dive in stocks, but nothing since. 

Bruce glared at her and grunted, continuing his trek away from the kitchen. There was a tiny umbrella in the bucket. Well. Good to see that his humor was up. 

"Diana, I haven't heard anything since my goddamn business manager two days ago yelled at me because Ra's bane of my life Al Ghul sent...well. Now he's aware of Ra's courting of Tim. And he had words about my skill set, and _labor laws,_ " he hissed. 

Nevermind. The umbrella was there as an ironic symbol.

They had wandered back down to the Cave, Diana making sure he didn’t trip and die (because even though the drinking was getting exhausting, she actually cared for her Dramatic Bat), with Clark at the edge of the computer. 

"Cheer up," she said, as Bruce collapsed onto the chair. "It could be worse."

Both Clark and Bruce gave her a look. "How?" Bruce snapped. "How _on Earth_ could this be worse?"

Diana shrugged. "Jason could have been the one interested in Tim. Or Dick had decided that he was in love with Damian," she pointed out. "Or perhaps one of them became interested in someone in the League. Or they had started a sexual relationship with Hal or Arthur. Or with one of your villains here."

"Well that's frankly horrifying," Clark quipped, desperate to ignore his mounting horror. Bruce had just continued to inhale his bucket drink at Diana's words. "Diana don't put any of that mojo in the universe," he turned back to Bruce, hopeful that maybe the Margarita-from-Hell finally made Bruce pass out. So he could then bring Bruce to Dinah for an emergency Alcohol Intervention. It was going on day three of this binge, and Clark was ready to go home. Alas, Clark's hopes were quickly dashed. 

"What if...I marry Tim?" Bruce stared at him, eyes dead. 

"Bruce," Clark said, oh so calm. He was Lake Placid. He was calm. He was zen. A zen lake. "Are you high? Are you literally high? Were there drugs in that drink? Are you being mind controlled?" Maybe they should try weed. It would have less damage to Bruce's liver. Weed does...it doesn't make him high, in a sense, but he does like the tingly feeling, and if anything, he's sure there's some Silver Kryptonite around. Anything to stop this trainwreck thought process of Bruce.

"What about ...you-"

"I am happily married and have a _son_. Who is friends with _your other son_. No. And if you say Diana next, I will not stop her from maiming you."

"It would be quick," Diana promised. "And relatively painless. Victor has been working with a new model for leg prosthetics." 

"But what if-"

"Bruce, seriously, don't." Clark's patience was to a _thread_. "Do you remember your Tim sex scandal? Because _I_ remember your Tim sex scandal. _Because I was the one who helped fix said scandal."_

"What on earth happened?" Diana asked. 

"Ah, you might have been off Earth- basically the paparazzi somehow got a picture of Tim sporting a black eye and strangle marks when he was up in the Manor and thought the worst. It didn't help that apparently Bruce was caught arguing with Tim the day before."

"He kept answering Ra's calls," Bruce mumbled. "And he said no to the tracker." 

"Yes, letting your at-the-time teen ward become emancipated, run half of your life and a multi-billion business along with leading teams of superheroes, _and_ cleaning up your messes does mean that they tend to be more independent and less likely to deal with your paranoid ass." Bruce glared at him. "I don't care Bruce, I had to sit and listen to your youngest son's marriage proposal via a business presentation. I did not get scrapbooks, I got Microsoft Excel and Photoshop."

"It did remind me of one of those awful meetings the government shells for," Diana shuddered. "Just with more of a "Timothy Drake will be mine" as a thesis statement." 

"Right. Anyway, Bruce got into a sex scandal with Tim, and had the Daily Planet help get his image back, which meant I spent a lot of time "interviewing" Tim, and watching Bruce glare until he would get distracted."

"I'm wondering if I should be concerned that I can hear those quotations," Diana said, a faint frown on her face, "But really, I'm more curious about what you meant by “interviewing."

Clark shrugged. "I knew that there wasn't any scandal, and I'm not about to stress myself over something ridiculous like that, so Tim would give me a sheet of his answers and then we just played video games, since he has controllers that can handle kryptonian grip." Clark paused. "It was mostly Smash Brothers, and Tim is deadly with Kirby. But, overall, it was actually fun. And some of the easiest articles I had to write." 

"I thought you would actually attempt to interview Tim and I."

"Bruce, I care for you, but Brucie Wayne makes me want to fully commit to the "Eat the Rich" manifesto. Just completely go over to their side. Burn a shirt, or buy a bra and then burn the bra. Throw a brick, maybe." Clark sighed when Diana gave him a mystified look. "You haven't met Brucie Wayne, Diana. Once you have, you'll probably just never want to return to our world again. Or maybe actually go to war with it." 

"Why do you make terrible personas?" Bruce shifted at her question. "I'm generally mystified. Are you just unable to make one that people actually like?" 

"Brucie Wayne exists because I need people to believe that I could never be Batman. Also it makes it easy for people to underestimate you if they think you're an idiot. And people like Brucie Wayne."

"Bruce, Brucie is a moron wrapped in all the privilege and added with a yacht and terrible TV Land shows because no one uses "tiger" or “champ” or _“chum”_ any more, I think your sons get a little more dead inside when you use those words. You make everyone suffer when you’re Brucie Wayne. There’s a complex bartering system at the office because not even _Cat_ wants to deal with Brucie Wayne. Lois and I have our own bartering system whenever we’re stuck with interviewing you as Brucie Wayne and know we have to actually deal with the persona and not you. _This is why I threw a pie at my wife's face._ ” 

"What?"

"It was an argument that snowballed, Diana. She wasn't hurt, and I got to not do the article." And he had to sleep on the couch, but the main point is that he _didn’t have to do the article._

"I usually request you, though." Bruce frowned. "Lois just glares at me and makes vague stabbing motions on her tablet." 

"And I appreciate that Bruce," Clark sighed. "Except everyone at the office thinks you have a crush on me and is trying to seduce me away from Lois so I can be your "Kept Journalist." It doesn't help that you flirt with only me."

"I thought you wouldn't appreciate it if I flirted with your wife. Also it's Lois."

"I resent that last statement, but I appreciate the first one. Except Lois is actually getting concerned. And maybe jealous." 

"Why would she be that?" Now Bruce was mystified. "She's your wife."

"Bruce, you gave me flowers."

"Apology flowers."

"And cufflinks."

"Apology cufflinks." 

"You tried to give me a _car_ , Bruce." 

"An apology car."

"That's- that's not _a thing._ That is not and never will be _a thing._ " Clark waved to Diana. "Help me out here."

She had her chin resting on her fist, her eyes wide with wonder. "You bring me great enjoyment and awe sometimes, Kal-El, Bruce. I learn so much from both of you." 

Bruce grunted. “At least it isn’t damn magic, this time.” He ignored the looks the two were giving him. “Don’t- magic is supposed to be the cure-all, and all it does it makes everything worse and-”

“Father!”

It would be impressive, watching the young man storm into the Cave. His head held high, stride powerful. His eyes, bright with anger, a noble fury on his face. 

It would be impressive, if not the fact that following behind him was the Core Four, in various states of being covered in seaweed, blood, and glitter. Actually, only Tim was the one that actually was dressed presentable, in slacks and a button-down, and seemed to have actually showered recently. There was a piece of seaweed still stuck to Kon’s arm. 

“Father I am taking the plane,” Damian hissed. “I need to find an Oath-breaker.”

“Damian al Ghul-Wayne, if you kill any one of my best friends-”

“I will not,” hissed Damian, turning to Tim. “I need an Oath-breaker so I can erase whatever bonds you foolishly-”

“-It was not foolish-”

“-Hey, you think we can borrow the showers, the salt is kind of crusting to my-”

“What is going on?” Bruce looked at the five of them. Both Diana and Clark were mildly impressed at how easily the man was acting sober. 

“Drake,” Damian spat, “Has decided to bond himself with...them.” He waved a hand at the four. Cassie was squeezing out her hair, a puddle growing on the Cave’s floor. There was a nicely forming bruise on the side of her face. 

“Hey, Clark, you can officiate weddings, yeah?” Kon asked. 

“Nope,” came the immediate reply. “Not legally, or Krptonian, and I’m refusing to get involved in...this. What is this?”

“I’m trying to fix the issue,” Tim hissed, glaring at Damian. “We’ve already done the Atlantean Bond, and the Amazonian Warrior Bond, so we were hoping to get a Kryptonian Bond, but Mr. al Ghul-Wayne decided to interfere because he _thinks_ what I’m doing is foolish.” Bruce stopped moving. 

“I will be your partner, Drake,” Damian stepped closer, not even blinking as Tim snarled at him. “I would rather rip out the spine of Superman before I allow you.”

“You would _allow_ me, Timothy fucking Jackson-”

“Excuse me, but I don’t agree with-”

“-How dare you, allow you? Allow you-”

“You’ve. Bonded. Ritually bonded yourself.”

“Your point, B?” Tim’s eyes were narrow, his body thrumming with anger. Bruce’s was slowly doing the same, his facing slowly becoming more and more red and less and less drunk. 

“You’ve. Magically. Bonded. Yourself.” There was a twitch to his fingers. “You’re _permanently_ bonded yourself to the Clone of Superman and _Lex Luthor._ ”

“I mean,” Kon shifted. “I think I'm more like Clark, hopefully?” his voice rising octaves as the twitch in Bruce’s fingers traveled up his arms. 

“And a totally bomb demigoddess and a totally awesome speedster from the future,” Bart winked at Bruce. “And, also, I mean, it’s less like marriage and more like friendship bracelets.” The shorter boy held up Tim and his entwined hands. “Only magical.” All ignored Damian’s noise of disgust because-

Bruce was...spasming? He wasn’t moving, but it was as if his entire being was spasming from the dimension, as if refusing to accept this reality. 

Bruce’s eyes bugged out, and all were mildly entertained as a vein started to pulse on his forehead, his face turning various shades of bright, shining, _red_. 

* * *

“So that’s what Duke meant,” Steph murmured, utterly fascinated and terrified. Everyone else leaned back, even from the safety of the Oracle’s place, they were preparing themselves at what was going to be an _epic fit._

“I _told_ you,” Duke said.

* * *

“Magical friendship Bracelets aren’t a thing,” the growl was almost demonic, coming up from somewhere deep and dark and _murderous._ “And will never be _a thing._ ”

“It’s going to be a thing,” Tim snapped, crossing his arms, as everyone took a step _back_ . “Maybe we’ll even get matching tattoos. Big ones. In visible places. Because I _can_ , Bruce. You know why? I’m a _fucking_ adult. I can do shit like this, such as also ignore you when you say I need to get plastic surgery to make myself _ugly._ ”

“That is not what I said!” Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, ignoring the various looks of disgust and confusion. “I said, that it wouldn’t be hard to-”

 _“-Stop,”_ Diana held up a hand. “Bruce, you need to stop. As a member of the Justice League, as a warrior, as a woman, as someone who has lived on this earth longer than you have been alive, there is _no way_ you can win this conversation if you suggested-”

“-He just needs to be less...pretty, Diana,” Bruce argued, ignoring her frustrated sigh and Clark’s “Oh good _god_ , Bruce.” He motioned towards Tim. “Just...less.”

“And do you want to tell Wonder Woman _why_ you said that, _Bruce Wayne_ _?”_ Tim hissed, soft as a rattlesnake. “Do you want to tell Wonder Woman why _you_ told me to get _plastic surgery so I can stop tempting your son?_ ”

Dead silence. 

“...To be fair, I also said that it may stop Ra’s from courting you as well, and it may stop him from trying to make you some sort of wife.”

“Everyone needs therapy,” Kon blurted. “Every _single person_ \- except Wonder Woman and Cassie- needs therapy in this room.” He motioned wildly around. “Cause I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling _really_ fucking traumatized by these revelations, and I’ve _seen_ the sex toys that Ra’s gave to Tim, and I’m not the one that should be feeling fucking traumatized, because c _ock cage_. I mean,” he gestured wildly over to where Clark was just standing, face unreadable. “You broke fucking _Superman._ This is a broken man we’re looking at.”

“I _feel_ like a broken man,” Clark said. “Because you shouldn’t victim-blame your children, Bruce. You know this. I know you know this. Diana knows you know this.” It was amazing, seeing Bruce swivel his head around, almost possessed-like as he bared his teeth towards the Kyrptonian. 

“Well maybe no one told me what the hell to say when your youngest son wants to marry your other son!”

“ **_No!_ **The Answer is “Absolutely not” and send him to therapy!”

“You think _therapy_ is going to work with _my_ son? My _genetically related_ son?”

“Father is right; It wouldn’t have worked,” Damian interjected. 

“My point!”

“Your point, your _ass_ . That’s not a _point,_ that’s just bad parenting- and also, why the _hell_ aren’t you more concerned about the fact that there’s an Immortal Assassin who decided to send _sex toys_ to Tim? _I’m_ more concerned with that!”

“I _am_ concerned,” bellowed Bruce. “I have Jason on it!”

* * *

Five pairs of eyes stopped looking at the screen. 

Five pairs of eyes turned to the man. 

“Oh shit,” whispered Jason. “I knew I forgot something.”

* * *

“Even still!”

“Woah!” A blur of red and blue appeared between Batman and Superman. 

“Jon?”

“Hey Dad,” Jonathan Lane Kent, son of Superman, also known as Superboy (which wasn’t confusing at all, oh _no_ ) “I, uh, heard screaming?”

“Jon... _anthan Samuel Kent, you **will** explain to me about the pornography!” _ Jon blanched, looking wildly down at Damian. “ _Dude,_ you said that that was only for Tim’s eyes only!”

 _“What?”_ Tim didn’t need to know. Tim didn’t _want_ to know, but actually, he did _need_ to know. He absolutely needed to know about the pornography because his brain was suggesting that-

“Tt, your Father and Wonder Woman kept saying that I was unsuitable for Drake, and I needed to show my point, and the draft is informative, if not...polished.”

“The PowerPoint presentation was a _draft?_ ”

“The what?” 

“You made a PowerPoint presentation?”

“I am a Bat, it’s our family legacy, do keep up _Clone._ ”

“I mean, it was weird, but he has a point.” Jon settled beside Damian. “But I thought you wanted to do this right?” He tilted his head, looking very much like the dog he kept denying he was. “Like, you wanted to show Tim the ‘whys’ and stuff. And you said you needed more, uh, _references_.”

Damian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I did, I still do, Jon- I just wish it wasn't a rushed timeframe as it is." 

"Wait," Tim frowned after a moment of silence, the world struggling to shift gears. "What?" 

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Tim looked between the two. "You overhead Ra's mentioning wanting to arrange something between me and a “favorite of his choosing." Tim's face was a grimace, hating the words coming out of his mouth. "You, because we've been doing better in the fact that we're not trying to rip out our throats every three minutes, decided that instead of _telling anyone else_ what you heard, you'll just try and make me marry you so that way I won't end up by Ra's side, and Bruce probably finally losing his shit. You don't know about the sex toys, but you probably agree that Ra's trying to get into my pants, and you're just as disturbed as everyone else, but you still didn't say anything because you didn't want Ra's to figure out that you tipped me off about him." Tim was rubbing at one of his temples as he finished, feeling his headache forming. Around him, everyone else was in various states of exhaustion, merely staring off into the distance as Damian kept looking at Tim, eyes never wavering. 

"And I am attracted to you, in various ways," Damian added. Tim sighed. "Yes, thank you Damian." 

“I mean, it makes sense,” Bart chirped. “Both you and him have issues with emotions, and use control as a way of dealing with your various emotional problems and as a way of self-soothing, probably a throwback from your childhood. You’re both smart, sarcastic, and have feral bloodlust that makes Jaimie cry everytime you two are both in a room together, although Tim is more explody and Damian’s more stabby. You both have that controlling/codependency trait that is in all Bats, which is probably due to the various traumas and issues growing up in Gotham and letting a man with parent issues try and clean up the crime in a famous crime city being a major mentor and father figure.” 

“Bart what the _hell_ ,” Tim breathed out, horrified at his friend’s words- looking even more disturbed when Bart only shrugged. “I mean, it’s just a theory.”

“Why am I attracted to you right now,” Cassie said, eyes narrowed. Conner also was looking at Bart with interest, and if it wasn't for the fact that all of this was happening down in the Cave, in front of Batman, maybe Tim would be intrigued enough to egg this on. It could work. And maybe it would stop people trying to hook him up with his best friends- even though he did just sort of platonically marry them all and that was another issue for another day. 

Clark...was looking less broken and more of just exhausted, something Tim could easily relate to. The poor man just wanted to be there for his Dramatic Goth Bro™ , not get involved in the whirlwind of Bat-Politics. Diana actually seemed mildly impressed as she considered the young speedster. 

“You should definitely look into psychology,” she mused out loud. “Your insight may be helpful out in the field.” Bart actually stood up straighter, preening. “Thank you, Wonder Woman.”

“You’re very welcome, young Impulse. Now- I think it’s best if we go and leave those two to finally talk, hm?” She motioned her head to Damian and Tim, both looking at each other with wary eyes. She cleared her throat, and Tim’s eyes snapped to Bruce. Who-

Looked awful. As if he went on a three day bender and finally woke up in the nightmare scenario he had created with his own drunken hands. Tim sighed. For everything Bruce had put him through, _Batman_ put him through, he couldn’t help but still have some...well, it was _Bruce_. The man was the Original Emotionally Constipated Man. And,Tim, in his own terms, could admit to being petty and an asshole and twisting words to use against B when he got pissed. Bruce used faces and intimation, Tim used words and glares. He rubbed the back of his head, observing the droopy, exhausted, bundle of traumatized Batman. “We’ll talk. Later.” Tim gave Bruce the “Later-After-We-Established-Our-Arguments” Look. Bruce responded with “I-Am-Sorry” Look, which. Was surprising, because usually it was the “I-Am-In-The-Right” Look, not the one that was filled with remorse and some other feelings that made Tim have to look away quickly. 

“Later,” Bruce agreed, getting up to his feet. He walked carefully over to Tim and _dear god_ , Tim nearly gagged at the scent of sugar and alcohol that the man gave off like a wall. It made his eyes water, and _not_ because Bruce placed a large warm hand on his shoulder and quietly mumbled “I am sorry. I missed you, partner.” Nope, it was the scent of alcohol that was coming off in waves, not those simple words that made Tim’s heart ache. 

He was Red Robin, his heart didn’t ache for no man.

Clark had walked up in front of Damian, clapping a hand on his shoulder and letting it rest there.. “I know you’re a good kid, but keep in mind, Jon is still underage,” he smiled brightly at the young man. “And if I hear you making Jon create pornography for you, again,” Damian rolled his eyes. He had kryptonite, he could deal with this man’s threats. “-I’m leaving you to deal with Lois.” 

All of them stared at Clark: Lois Lane-Kent, even now, was a terror to deal with. Bruce was scared of her. Most of the Justice League was _terrified_ of her. Her wrath was something of legend, and not to be taken lightly. Clark rarely rolled out the “Lois” threat, not within reason. 

Damian swallowed. “It...will never happen again. I’m sorry, Jon, Mr. Kent,” he said, bowing his head slightly. Clark just patted his shoulder. “That’s all I ask for, Damian. Now, if you don’t mind- Jonathan Samuel Kent, you are grounded.” Clark marched up to Jon, and actually grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “You are _so grounded._ ”

“But dad!” was the last thing anyone of them heard as the Kents flew off. 

Cassie smiled at Tim as his friends (his Core Four, _god_ he was grateful for his friends, his team) quietly dragged off Bruce, leaving Tim and Damian alone for the first time since this debacle happened. 

They didn’t speak, just stared at each other, both unsure of what to say, how to act, what to do. 

"Damian," Tim started, voice gentle as he gazed at the young man. Where did the years go? "I…" his mouth was open, the words unable to come forth. 

Green eyes met blue. "You don't want me as a partner." There was a difference in the word, _partner_ , that faintly, Tim noted, but that was for another time to analyze and examine until nothing remained. 

"I don't want to be another mistake." That was a more honest admission. To be honest, he didn't really know exactly his relationship was with Damian- they worked great together, now, but the past was as murky as Gotham's coastline, familiar and dangerous. They just found their stride, their balance. Even if he was attracted to Damian- who was a perfect balance of the broad protecting form of Bruce and the lithe deadly body of Talia- which he was not attracted to Damian- oh hell shit.

Tim sighed. And tried to get his feelings in order. His feelings ignored his request. Damian was still looking at him, eyes belaying nothing. 

"I like our relationship as it is right now. I like how we can work together and not try and kill each other and yet we can push and pull if we need to. I like being able to converse with you, and having the closeness to banter. I like having that with you. It feels. It feels safe." He closed his eyes. "I don't want to lose that, Damian. I don't- I don't want to lose this, what we have already." He hated being honest. It made something inside of him shriek and cough up blood. But Damian deserved honesty- he had been sincere with his feelings. That took effort, and Tim wasn't that much of an asshole to ignore that. "I worry- I worry that I'm going to slip up or something will happen and we'll just fall back into what we were in the past. And that's- no commitment should be based on that, you deserve better, Damian. You’re so...good. You’re good, Dami. You _deserve_ better." 

The minutes ticked by. Tim refused to open his eyes, to look at Damian's face. 

He felt a light brush on his cheek. 

"I could speak the words on why I believe you are wrong, but I know you'll only fight me." Tim's eyes shot open to stare at Damian's amused ones. The bitch was _amused_. "All I ask, is that you will not only listen with your ears, but with your eyes, as I prove to you that I don't want or need better, I want and need you, Timothy. To me, there is no one I wish to deserve, but for you." Those eyes softened into something that looked like something that Tim secretly, desperately, wanted. 

Oh boy, those sounded like words that Tim could _swoon_ to. He did not swoon. Tim was a _man_ , men do not swoon (he swooned a little, how could he not?) 

"Well, then," bright blue met sparkling green. Tim felt a half-smile on his face as he said (purred) three words that made Damian's grin turn fierce and bright and happy. _"Prove it, Wayne."_

* * *

 _“Huh,”_ Jason stared at the screen, ignoring both Bab’s and Duke’s attempts to stop Dick from slamming his head against the wall. Repeatedly. “I guess that ends that.” 

“Mm,” Cass and Steph murmured from their new perches in the rafters, both gotten into the secret Good Tea Stash. “Though B still owes Steph and I new shoes.”

* * *

Diana patted his back as they watched the two men grin at each other from the tablet. “Stiff upper lip, Bruce.” 

Bruce just sighed, feeling...empty. Overwhelmed. Wanting to wash his hands of everything that had happened in the past few days. Maybe he could deal with his pain by pummeling a few ninjas. 

“Also I made a mandatory emergency appointment with you and Dinah about everything that has happened. It’s _time_ , Bruce.” Her voice held the flinty tone of the battlefield. “This shouldn’t have happened, and Dinah is the best in our business. It’s two days from now. _You will talk to her._ ”

He glared at his best friend, and her knowing smile. Damn it. 

“I’m not going to get out of that,” he sighed, as he felt warm arms wrap around his shoulders, a familiar warmth that made him ache. Clark and Diana were too good for him. 

“Nope,” she said, and kept hugging her best friend. 

* * *

_"But Dad!"_

"No buts," Clark repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose. While he was glad that Bruce had stopped his descent into alcoholism, he wished it had happened a bit sooner- and that he didn't have to go and forbid Jon from photo-shop. 

Clark bet that Oliver didn't have to deal with this. Or Arthur. They got the _decent_ kids. (Actually, no, Oliver fucked up his kids even more...but Connor was good. Connor was one of the few actually Zen People™ that Clark knew.)

Lois smiled wearily beside him. She got it. She was dealing with all of this second-hand, but as soon as he even mentioned Damian and Tim, she had wrapped his arms around him, and promised to help Diana drag Bruce into therapy because this could of all been avoided if Bruce acted...literally any way different. Lois turned back to their son, straightening her shoulders. 

"Jon, your Father said no, so _no,_ you aren't allowed to make terrible porn anymore," she said, the strict tone undermined by the fact that she had bitten the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Clark couldn't blame her; it was pretty funny, even with the amount of dicks and vaginas. 

"But Dad!" Jon whined. "Think of it! We could make a virus and make Luthor's computers flash all this terrible porn!" 

Hold on.

Clark may have been Superman, but he was still only a _man_. A man that gets tired of Luthor's bullshit. A man that had three days of dealing with the Dramatic Goth of the Galaxy. A man that, in his weaker moments, enjoyed being a troll. As a hobby. As a _vacation._

Clark paused. "You're already working on it, aren't you?" He glanced over to Lois. The ball was in her court now. But he could sense it- it was too much temptation, too great. She wouldn't resist (just like him.) After all, they were best when they trolled together. 

Jon nodded his head. "Oracle is helping us." 

Oh, well then. If it's _Oracle._

Lois shrugged, failing to look like the expasterated mother and more like the third accomplice. Because obviously Clark wasn't going to let Jon work on the photos alone, was he? 

Besides, they were looking for a new family activity.

**Author's Note:**

> How many pages is this? Too many. Why? Because I’m already working on one series and I Know My Strengths And Weakness. I Can Only Handle One Series. 
> 
> This. Took So Much out of me. 
> 
> Is this terrible? Is it? I feel proud and horrified all at once. I just. I don't know. 
> 
> Did it get really abrupt? Yes. But this is what happens when you have too many ideas and you don't need to be working on another series. Please forgive me. 
> 
> If you want to read better humor fics, check out heartslogos- known for great works such as "Executive Assistant to the Batman" and " The Fruit Basket" along with many more. Such a fantastic writer. 
> 
> Actually, chapter 96 of their "Drabble, Drabble" collection is just. Perfection. Seriously- so much sass.
> 
> Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try and become one with sleep. Again. Maybe. 
> 
> Someone, give me rest.
> 
> Edit: if you have time, look up "Glory Bound" by the Grass Roots and _tell me_ that Dick wouldn't be listening to that song. Also the image of Damian absently singing along isn't hilarious.
> 
> Edit: WHY TF AM I TERRIBLE WITH EDITING.


End file.
